Thursday, June 4, 2009
the moment of a yawn
Lucien had said all he knew and remembered about Marie-Neige in these stories, the sound of her wheelbarrow, how she lit a fire, the moment of a yawn, the way she had talked about a thistle in a ditch. She was within him now.
"Divisadero," Michael Ondaatje
[Dearborn Street below Polk Street]
- ► 2011 (107)
- ► 2010 (115)
- no light will project them
- the waitress turns kitchenward, her ankle blooms w...
- the eerie brightness of nighttime
- what you gotta do is play your own simple blues
- a wild ragged figure motioning him to turn around ...
- voices instead of colors
- quietly obscene
- in silence the heart
- now is, all there is
- but a dream
- the universe will soon
- sincere and lilting tone
- desperate enough just to do anything
- as close to their reflections
- spring breeze
- conflagrations, ruins, scenes of spectacular carna...
- the moment of a yawn
- I want to walk like I'm the only woman on earth an...
- rounded with a sleep
- night breeze
- ▼ June (23)